


i will tell the bees of your death (and they will mourn with me)

by inkstained_pages



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, BeeInnit, Bees, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Protective TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sorry Not Sorry, a little bit, and voilà, beeinnit do be living in my head rent free tho, beeinnit is born, fear me, i put them together, if anything it's, no beta we die like dream's face reveal, no one mentioned this after tubbo's stream, so I did a thing, so i decided fuck it ima do this, so what do i do, tubbo also likea da tommy, tubbo likea da bee, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstained_pages/pseuds/inkstained_pages
Summary: Well. This was unexpected.Tommy had thrown himself from the tower hoping to sink into death peacefully, floating away into the afterlife or coming back as a ghost that remembered only happy things.He was not expecting the six black legs tucked beneath his body. Or the tiny wings he felt moving against his back. And what was that buzzing noise?Or,In which Tommy dies and is reincarnated as a bee. He decides to follow Tubbo around, because of course.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 59
Kudos: 763





	i will tell the bees of your death (and they will mourn with me)

**Author's Note:**

> So… I’m not sorry.
> 
> Basically Tubbo got a bee named BeeInnit on his birthday stream and it was never mentioned again after the stream.
> 
> HOWEVER, I HAVE BIRTHED THIS MONSTROSITY AND NOW BEEINNIT SHALL LIVE RENT FREE IN ALL YOUR HEADS.
> 
> I will never apologize for anything I do, I love beeinnit with all my heart.  
> Do with this what you will. 
> 
> The title and the myth mentioned in the story come from the myth about telling the bees of a loved one’s death. It was a common practice during the 1800’s and 1900’s to tell bees when one of of the members of the household had died. If you didn’t, it was believed that you would have bad luck.
> 
> Did i do research on bees just to find a title? Yes. Did i spend almost an hour doing so? Also yes. Do i care? Absolutely not. I am in so deep and i am so proud of it (but my parents aren’t aha :,) 
> 
> !! TW: mentions of suicide !!
> 
> enjoy :)

It was cold, Tubbo noted vaguely. 

The temperatures had dropped on the server that day, which was fitting considering the occasion.

Tommy was dead. Phil had found his son’s body lying broken on the ground below an extremely tall tower, obviously built by the teen himself. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling peacefully.

There was no question as to how Tommy had died, and that was the worst part.

He had died alone and desolate, abandoned by all, even Tubbo, who remembered promising Tommy that it would always be them against the world. He died by his own hand, his own actions. He fell to his death from a tower of his own making, taking the jump himself.

Tubbo wished he had died instead, if only to spare himself the pain of losing Tommy, his other half.

Not only was the temperature colder than usual, but Tubbo himself was cold. Not from the chilly air, but from something deep inside, something lacking. There was an empty, yawning gap that Tommy had cut out when he had taken his own life, letting ice seep into Tubbo’s heart. Tommy had always brought so much life to everything, so much warmth.

He took it with him when he died, and now there was nothing but cold and emptiness.

And there Tubbo sat, in front of Tommy’s grave after they had buried him. His head was buried in his knees, and his body shook with sobs.

The others had left long ago (Tubbo couldn’t remember how long, he wasn’t aware of the time, only the pain), and now Tubbo was alone in his grief. That was okay with him though; he didn’t want anyone to bear witness to his pathetic weeping, or to tell him everything was going to be okay. It wasn’t, because Tommy was dead and he was the only one who had ever made anything okay.

Tubbo didn’t know how long he sat there crying, but it must have been hours, because when he looked up again, the sky was dark and his breath billowed in the air.

He shivered, and uncurled slowly from his position on the hard ground. He winced as his spine cracked and he stretched to try and alleviate some of the tightness. His eyes were probably bright red and his cheeks ever more so, hair messy and tears tracks staining his face.

Safe to say, Tubbo was sure he looked like a mess.

Not that he cared. 

For some reason there was only one thought on his mind at the moment.

Bees.

When Tubbo was really young, someone he didn’t remember had told him a story about telling the bees. The tradition was that if ever someone died in the family, the family had to tell the bees of the death, or else the bees would die or bad luck would befall the home. It was said that the bees had to mourn properly in order to move on from the death and accept it.

That was Tubbo’s thought as he made his way over to his bee aviary. He had to tell the bees about Tommy, or they would be upset that he hadn’t let them know.

(The bees had never known Tommy, the logical part of his mind reasoned, but for once in Tubbo’s life, his emotional side took over and drove his feet to the bees, silencing the logic within him.)

He got to the aviary and stumbled inside, shutting the doors quickly before collapsing against the wall. He whistled softly for his bees, and soon more than half the colony was buzzing around him, albeit a bit sleepily.

“Sorry guys,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to wake you, but this is important.” 

The bees seemed to buzz more intently, urging him to continue.

Tubbo took a deep breath, before speaking. “Tommy’s dead.” He sniffed, tears spilling from his eyes once more. “Tommy’s dead and he’s never coming home. He left me all alone, he killed himself.” Tubbo began sobbing again, and he curled into himself.

He could hear the bees flitting around him worriedly (he could swear, they were the smartest insects he knew of), and he lifted his head to address them again.

“I’m s-sorry,” he gasped out between tears. “It’s my fault that he’s dead, my fault that he felt that death was his only way out. It’s all my f-fault! He’s dead because of me!” He continued to cry, his bees surrounding him and buzzing in an oddly comforting way. 

Eventually, there were no more tears left to cry, and Tubbo slumped against the wall of the aviary, exhausted. The bees hummed louder, a sort of soft purr that reminded Tubbo of a cat. His eyes drifted close a few seconds later, and he let himself drift off.

Sleep claimed him a few moments later, and Tubbo gratefully gave himself over to the blackness, praying for once that he could have a nightmare free night.

(He didn’t.)

~ ~ ~

Well. This was unexpected. 

Tommy had thrown himself from the tower hoping to sink into death peacefully, floating away into the afterlife or coming back as a ghost that remembered only the happy things.

Instead, Tommy opened his eyes and found himself curled in the branches of a tree.

Which, by the way,  _ what the fuck? _

Tommy did not remember climbing into a tree. He very distinctly remembered falling to his death by his own choice (the dizzying freedom causing him to laugh until everything went black), but nothing afterwards.

Maybe this was the afterlife?

But then why did he have six little black legs under him, and why did he feel something on his back?

And why was he black and yellow, tiny, and buzzing?!

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” Tommy muttered in a chant continuously as he stood on his six legs, trying to orient himself.

He was in a tree, and he was tiny. He was tiny and he was black and yellow, and for the love of Prime _ , what was that buzzing noise? _

After turning in multiple circle to try and figure out what the fuck was going on, Tommy could only come to one conclusion.

He, TommyInnit, the great man himself, was a bee.

“I’m calling whoever is in charge of the afterlife and asking for a refund.”

~ ~ ~

Being a bee was hard, Tommy learned in the next ten minutes.

First of all, he was a super itty bitty (not that small, if he was being honest; Minecraft bees were insanely large for their kind) bee, which in and of itself was a problem, since he was supposed to be a  _ human _ .

Or maybe a ghost. Who knows, he was dead up until a few minutes ago, give him a break.

Not only was he a bee, but as a bee, his main method of transportation was flying. Which, hey, is not as easy as it seems.

(How the ever loving fuck Phil had been able to do it so beautifully for all the years Tommy had known the man made no sense to Tommy now.)

He had to keep his wings constantly buzzing, and having never had to do so before, it was an effort to concentrate on moving them at such a fast pace and to keep them there. 

He fell a total of nineteen times before he could even stay in the air at all, cursing each time he hit the ground. However, he managed to do it on try number twenty (of course he did, he was TommyInnit) and he sort of hovered in the air for a bit, trying to get used to the feeling.

Once he was comfortable doing that, he tried to move. It wasn’t all that difficult, Tommy found gratefully. All one had to do was lean their tiny bee body in one direction and the tiny bee body would go there.

So, it was safe to say that Tommy learned to fly as a bee in under an hour.

He was really quite proud of himself. He turned in the air to brag about his accomplishment to someone, but there was no one there.

Ah, right. Bee. 

(And before that, exile, but Tommy was trying his best to push those memories as far away from himself as he could.)

Well, Tommy couldn’t really let his immensely hard to achieve victory be left unbragged, so he buzzed off in a random direction to find someone to bother. Maybe he could figure out how to let them know it was him, Tommy, and then they could take him to see Tubbo.

Thinking about it, Tommy hoped Tubbo was alright. Yes, his best friend had exiled him, but in the end it had been ultimately Dream who had forced Tubbo to do so. Yes, Tubbo could have resisted, but looking back on it, if he had done so, the consequences would have been disastrous. Looking back, Tommy could see how Tubbo was backed into a corner and had no way out, so he took the option that got less people hurt.

So yes, his other half had betrayed him, but Tommy understood why.

Huh. Maybe being a bee made him wise or some shit like that. He didn’t remember being able to forgive Tubbo during exile. He guessed being in the heart of his worst period of life wasn’t exactly the best moment to forgive someone.

Despite the recent painful events, Tommy still remembered a lifetime’s worth of good memories that he had with Tubbo, and that was enough to spur him on to finding his friend.

He had to be around here somewhere. Tommy didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t recognize the area around him either. Being so small was weird, and everything looked strange to his tiny eyes. 

Tommy grumbled and cursed to himself as he flew, not really caring that no one could hear him. That had never stopped him before.

“Stupid afterlife, this is so dumb.” 

“Who makes someone into a fuckin’ bee? That’s just weirdchamp.” 

“I’m gonna submit a complaint. Why couldn’t I just be a ghost like Wil?”

Then he accidentally flew into a wall and his ramblings ceased.

He blinked for a few seconds, confused as to what had gotten in his way, before looking up and doing a double take.

He had run into a stone wall, a very familiar stone wall at that. Upon backing up and taking in the whole view, he realized he had smashed his face into the camarvan.

“Marvellous.” Tommy grinned (how does one grin as a bee?). “Who knows why I didn’t see that before, but I’m blaming it on the fact that bees somehow have shit eyesight.”

Tommy went around the camarvan and found himself staring at wooden walkways and flags that held more meaning to him than almost anything else.

L’manburg stood tall in the sunlight, strong and beautiful. Tommy noticed that it had grown since he had last been here (since he had been exiled) and he noted with a proud smile that Tubbo had done an amazing job building all the houses and paths.

It looked perfect. It looked like home.

A movement from behind him startled Tommy out of his reverie and he spun around, instantly on edge. Being in multiple wars did that to a person, made them constantly aware of their surroundings and of any potential threats.

But this wasn’t a threat. Tommy gasped softly when he laid eyes on Tubbo.

His friend looked… well. He looked  _ awful _ . His clothes were mussed and wrinkled, his hair was unkempt, and there were bags under his eyes so dark they looked like bruises. There was no smile on his face like Tommy was used to, there was no light in his eyes. Instead, Tubbo looked exhausted, and he walked like there was an immense weight on his shoulders.

“Tubbo,” Tommy murmured, concern filling him, along with dread. “What happened to you man?”

Of course, Tubbo didn’t hear him, didn’t even notice him really. He just kept walking towards L’manburg, sighing deeply as he stepped onto the wooden paths.

“Oh for fucks sake dude, this bee thing is gettin’ real old.” Tommy buzzed quickly after his best friend. Due to his lack of practice in the flying area, he sort of slammed into Tubbo from behind when he caught him (Tommy really needed to stop flying into things, he was going to break something at some point).

Tubbo yelped and stumbled a few steps forward. Tommy frowned at that. He was a bee and bees didn’t fly very fast. Him banging into Tubbo should not have sent him that far. Tubbo must be worse than he thought.

“What the-” Tubbo looked behind him and stopped mid sentence. 

He stared at Tommy. 

Tommy stared at Tubbo. 

“Uh, hello little bee,” Tubbo said, finally giving Tommy a tiny smile. “What are you doing out here all alone? Do you need a home?”

Tommy groaned loudly. “You have got to be kidding me. I’m not a fucking  _ bee _ Tubbo! It’s me, Tommy! Your best mate, your bro!”

Tubbo obviously didn’t understand him, as he started petting Tommy gently and making cooing noises.

Tommy really wished he had hands, so he could either smack his forehead or smack Tubbo. “This is absolutely ridiculous. I am TommyInnit, the greatest Minecraft player in all existence, I should not be lowered to the standards of a  _ bee _ .”

“Come on, Mr. Bee, I have a nice home for you over in my bee aviary.” Tubbo gestured for Tommy to follow. Tommy ignored that.

“Uh, no. I’m not going to be shut in a fucking  _ bee aviary _ like some sort of animal. I am a big man and I am staying right here.”

Tubbo turned around when he realized Tommy wasn’t following him.

“Uh. You don’t want to go in the bee aviary?” Tubbo said, obviously confused.

“Hell no.”

Even if Tubbo couldn’t understand him in his bee state, he seemed to get that Tommy had no intentions of moving. “Alright, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I guess. Just be careful around these parts. There’s usually a lot of fighting.” His eyes grew dark. “Or at least, there used to be, when he was still alive.”

Tommy jerked his head to Tubbo. “What?”

When Tubbo stayed silent, looking lost in thought, Tommy flew over to his friend and nudged his shoulder with his head. “Tubbo, I’m right here man. Yeah, maybe I’m a bee, but I’m still me. I’m still Tommy.” 

He almost added a ‘your’ before his name, before he realized he wasn’t anymore, at least not in Tubbo’s eyes. After all, Tubbo exiled him.

(Then he remembered that Dream had forced Tubbo to do so, and that there was really no choice to be made at all, even if Dream made it seem like there was. It was either Tommy leaves or everyone dies, and if Tommy was being really honest, he would have chosen to exile himself too.)

Tubbo patted Tommy affectionately. “Thanks, Mr. Bee. But he’s dead now, the one I was talking about. He can’t- he’s not-” Tubbo put a hand over his mouth and his eyes shone with tears. “He’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “No no no Tubbo it’s not your fault man! This was my own choice, and it was Dream who pushed me this far! It was never you, I promise!”

But of course, Tubbo didn’t hear him. He just shook his head, pulled himself together, and started walking again.

Tommy wanted to scream. Here he was, back in L’manburg, in front of his best friend, and he was unable to do anything to help. His best friend thought he was dead, thought it was his own fault, and Tommy was helpless to do anything but watch.

(There was a part of him that wanted to leave, wanted to let Tubbo drown in his own sorrow, a part that said it was Tubbo’s fault and that he deserved the pain. Tommy pushed that part of himself deep down and ignored it. Maybe it was partly his fault, but there was so much more at work than just Tubbo. It was not his fault.)

So Tommy shook away his own sorrow and followed his friend. It was a strange change of pace, being the one following. Usually it was Tubbo who trailed after Tommy wherever they went. Oh how the times had changed.

Tubbo looked up to Tommy when he buzzed up to him. “What do you want?” he mumbled. 

“I’m gonna follow you, bitch, just to make sure you don’t waste away,” Tommy replied. “You were always terrible at taking care of yourself anyway.” He knew Tubbo didn’t understand him, so he simply nudged Tubbo’s head with his own, trying to convey what he meant.

Tubbo sighed another deep, bone-tired sigh. “Well, you can follow me if you want. I’ll warn you though, I’m not very exciting.”

“That never stopped me before,” Tommy said.

They kept walking.

~ ~ ~

“-and then Dream said that no one actually cared about me, and I kinda believed him, which was stupid because he is a bitch and no one should ever listen to Dream, like  _ ever-”  _ Tommy kept rambling, even though he knew Tubbo couldn’t hear him.

He just really hated the silence, and he hadn’t actually talked to someone who wasn’t Dream and a bitch in weeks. It was a one-sided conversation, but he was okay with that.

“Tubbo!” a voice broke through Tommy’s rant, and both he and Tubbo (who had been looking over some papers while they walked) stopped and looked up.

Ranboo waved from where he stood outside his door. He walked over to Tubbo and greeted him.

“What’s going on Tubbo?”

Tubbo gave Ranboo a weak smile. “Nothing much, Ranboo. Just reading these papers for Big Q.”

“Fun, fun,” Ranboo said. Then he noticed Tommy hovering over Tubbo’s shoulder. “Uh, Tubbo?”

“Yeah?” Tubbo hummed absentmindedly. 

“You do know there is a bee just kind of… there. Right by your shoulder, right?”

Tubbo looked up, then at Tommy. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t know why, but he won’t leave me alone. He just keeps following me around.”

Tommy snorted. “You should be grateful I stuck around at all, you’re super boring.” He went unheard.

“Strange. I didn’t know bees did that,” Ranboo replied.

Tubbo shrugged. “I guess this one just has attachment issues.”

Tommy spluttered indignantly while Ranboo chuckled.

“Maybe,” he said in between laughs.

“Fuck you.” Tommy glared at Ranboo.

Ranboo glanced at Tommy and paled slightly. “Uh oh. He looks mad. Maybe I should go…?”

Tubbo snorted. “Yeah, maybe. He looks a little fierce when he’s mad doesn’t he?”

Ranboo nodded, before saying goodbye and scampering away.

“Yeah that’s right, bitch. See me and cower, for I am the most dangerous bee you shall ever meet!” Tommy crowed smugly. 

Tubbo looked at Tommy and rolled his eyes. “I swear you look like a smug son of a bitch.”

Tommy blinked. Huh, maybe Tubbo was better at reading bee expressions than he thought. This could come in handy.

Maybe Tommy could figure out a way to tell his friend that he was Tommy.

Only one way to find out.

~ ~ ~

“What the fuck are you doing.”

Tommy paused in his flying, looking down at Tubbo innocently. “What?”

Tubbo looked unamused. “You are a bee and yet you are flying upside down. Did Big Q give you some crack or something?”

Tommy snorted. “No bitch, I’m tryna tell you that I’m not a normal bee. And people call you the smart one…”

Tommy had been flying in funky patterns for almost five minutes now. First he tried to spell his name as he flew, but Tubbo had been too invested in some more government papers to notice.

Then, Tommy climbed all over his head.

Tubbo wasn’t really happy about that, and may have smacked Tommy.

(It was so rude.)

However, Tommy had gotten his friend’s attention, and had used that to full potential.

He started flying in loop de loops, then spinning around in circles. Tubbo just looked at him funny, so Tommy upped the weirdness.

He started flying upside down, and he swore Tubbo had a mini heart attack.

“Bees are not supposed to fly upside down, what the  _ fuck _ .” He said.

“I’m not a bee, bitch!!” Tommy yelled. “I’m Tommy! C’mon man, seriously. My head hurts, can’t you just figure it out already?”

Tubbo didn’t hear him, still.

Tommy decided to change tactics.

He followed Tubbo to his house, but right before he entered, he went over to Tubbo’s garden and got himself full of pollen.

Then, he went inside with Tubbo and walked all over his carpet. He was trying to spell Tommy, but spelling was hard for bees, as Tommy quickly learned.

He only really succeeded in getting pollen everywhere.

Tubbo was not amused.

~ ~ ~

It was almost sunset, and Tommy gave up trying to convince Tubbo that he wasn’t a normal bee. Nothing was working, and Tubbo just seemed to be getting more annoyed with every attempt.

Tommy sighed, and followed Tubbo to wherever they were going now. He had no idea, he didn’t remember anything being out this way.

Eventually, they came out to a hill that overlooked the sea and the sunset.

There was a tree there, and a bench. Tommy’s eyes watered suddenly and the familiar scene.

But there was also a grave.

_ Tommy’s  _ grave, Tommy realized as he flew closer. He shivered. There was something extremely unsettling about seeing your own grave, even if he was technically dead.

Tubbo sat on the ground in front of the grave and seemed to deflate. The front he had put up all day in front of everyone while doing his job fell away and in its place there was only a tired boy grieving the death of his best friend.

“Hey Tommy,” he started.

Tommy’s heart dropped. This was going to be depressing, and he knew it.

“It’s really hard,” he whispered. “To keep going without you, knowing that you’re never coming back. Before, the thought that you might come home kept me going, y’know? But now…” he trailed off, his gaze sliding towards the sunset.

He sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I wish you were here. I wish I had never exiled you. Even if Dream killed us all, at least we could’ve died together.”

Tommy winced. “You did what you had to do, Tubbo. Maybe I blamed you when I jumped, but it wasn’t your fault, not really. It was Dream who pushed me that far, and it was Dream who forced you to exile me in the first place. I promise you, I don’t blame you now. I forgive you.”

Alas, Tubbo couldn’t hear him, and Tommy was subject to watching his friend curl up beside Tommy’s grave and weep.

When the tears ceased the sun had almost set. Tubbo uncurled himself from his position and leaned up against the tree, clearly exhausted.

Tommy felt his own eyes grow damp, and he buzzed his way over to Tubbo. 

“Oh. Hello bee,” Tubbo murmured, eyes half closed. “Sorry about that.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. Instead, he settled himself on Tubbo’s shoulder. He spun around three times in a circle (he didn’t know why, it just felt right), and then curled up against Tubbo’s neck.

Tubbo hummed. “Thanks bee.” His breaths evened out soon after, and Tommy knew he was asleep.

Tommy sighed, and settled himself further. It was going to be a long night, but Tommy would protect his friend from any unwanted visitors.

And when the sun eventually rose again, Tommy was still awake, watching over Tubbo, and he promised he would continue to do so as long as it was necessary.

**Author's Note:**

> The reason Tommy was able to forgive Tubbo so easily in this story is that when he was reincarnated as a bee, he was basically reverted back to the mindset he had before his exile. Exile and Dream combined definitely warped his mental state into something terrible, enough that he ended his own life. I usually think of Exile Tommy and L’manburg Tommy as two seperate mindsets for him. One is not really Tommy at all, and more a combination of the manipulations of Dream and the stress of all his betrayals, while the other is the real Tommy, the one who has a (relatively) healthy mental state and is smart enough to think his way through things. When he was reincarnated as a bee, his mindset returned to that of L’maburg Tommy, the healthy Tommy, which is why he doesn’t immediately kill himself again or seem all that depressed during this story. So really, Tommy was right when he thought that being a bee made him wise and shit.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, comments and kudos give me life and are appreciated <3


End file.
